


I was in the darkness, So darkness I became

by spookyookykitty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, captain america: the winter soldier - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky remembers, CAPTAIN AMERICA 2: THE WINTER SOLDIER SPOILERS, EXTREMELY SPOILER HEAVY, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt Bucky, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Issues with Brainwashing and Mind Control, M/M, Spoilers, Steve is so amazing like always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 06:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1418666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyookykitty/pseuds/spookyookykitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically how I wish the "I knew him" scene had gone and how I wish the movie would have ended.</p>
<p>  <i>Before they could reach him he stood up and yanked Pierce around in one fluid movement, wrapping his metal arm around the other man’s neck and squeezing just tight enough to make breathing difficult. He backed into a corner, holding the man against him and staring down the guns now pointed at him.</i></p>
<p>Title from Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine<br/>*now edited with a little part added at the beginning at the request of a fantastic friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	I was in the darkness, So darkness I became

**Author's Note:**

> I had far too many feelings after TWS and had to immediately write this. Hope everything makes sense.

The man’s eyes flashed when he got a look at his face, unmasked for the first time. The light blue of his eyes once reflecting determination turned to anguish. 

“Bucky?” The man whispered, his face a mix of confusion, sadness, and the slightest flicker of hope.

“Who-“ ‘Who the hell is Bucky?’ was what he means to say but images flashed before his eyes, interrupting his words.

_He’s walking down the street when he hears the sounds of a fight. He glances down the alleyway; one boy is restraining a small skinny boy as another boy holds some type of book above him, taunting him._

_Normally he’d walk away but the unfairness of the fight rubs him the wrong way and he steps in._

_“Hey cut it out! Y’ever heard of an fair fight?” He yells._

_The boys are startled and look over at him. Glancing at each other they drop the book and go running down the opposite end of the alley._

_He walks over to the smaller boy and kneels down, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “You alright?” He asks._

_The small boy looks up at him, he has blonde hair and bright blue eyes. His full bottom lips is split and he has a nasty bruise blooming high on his left cheek, but other than that he looks okay._

_“M’fine.” He mumbles pushing himself up into a standing position._

_Bucky walks over to grab the book and sees it’s a sketchbook. It’s open to a drawing of the skyline. It’s breathtaking.  
“Did you draw this?” He asks staring at the drawing. _

_“Yeah. You’re-you’re not gonna make fun of me for it?” The boy asks, arms wrapped around his body._

_Bucky shakes his head furiously and hands the book back, “You kiddin’ me? That’s amazing!”  
The small boy looks up, eyes wide and a smile slowly appearing on his face. He accepts the book and tucks it safely under one arm. _

_“M’names James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.” He says cheerfully, thrusting his hand forward._

_“Nice to meet you Bucky, I’m Steven Grant Rogers.” He responds, accepting the outstretched hand in front of him._

_“Hiya Stevie.”_  
\--  
Pain, all he can feel is pain. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep fighting, strapped to the examination table. 

_He thinks he hears footsteps and his body tenses in fear, he can’t take any more tests or the injections, the feeling of fire in his veins._

_He closes his eyes and recites his name and number, trying to keep calm and not think of what is about to be done to him.  
But the he hears his name. And it’s Steve’s voice. _

_“Oh my god.” The man that sounds like Steve says and he starts breaking his restraints, freeing him._

_He opens his eyes in disbelief; scared it could just be a hallucination or a trick by Hydra._

_“It’s me. It’s Steve.” He says. And it is Steve. Only he looks different, taller and healthier and broader but definitely Steve._

_And he can’t help but smile. Because Steve came for him, he didn’t let him die on that cold metal table in a Nazi base in the middle of Austria._

_“Steve.” He breathes, the first feeling of happiness he’d experienced in weeks sweeping over his body and making him feel euphoric. “Steve.” He repeats smiling wider as the man helps him off the table._

_A warm hands curls around his neck, “I thought you were dead.” Steve says breathlessly, just staring at him._

_Now that he’s standing Bucky gets a good look at the man in front of him and blinks, “I thought you were smaller.” He responds._

_Steve lets out a shaky laugh and cups his cheek gently, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. The two stare at each other, basking in the presence of the other man they thought they’d never see again._

_But then there’s the sound of an explosion outside and Steve places an arm around his waist, “Come on.” He says, and as quickly  
as they can the two of them stumble out of the room. _

His hands grip his head tightly as he fall to his knees howling in pain. The pain of his nails digging into his scalp nothing compared to the bright explosions of pain behind his eyes. 

“Bucky?” He hears the word, but they sound muted. Then there’s the pressure of a hand laying itself gently on his shoulder. 

He growled and scrambled away, trying to distance himself from the confusion and pain the man caused.

“Don’t touch me!” He roared, “What did you just do?” 

The man stared at him in confusion, “I didn’t do anything – I- Bucky come with me, let me help you.” He pleads. 

“I don’t know you!” He yelled backing up. The look of disappointment on the blond’s face sends a jolt of pain through his chest and he stumbles. He can hear Hydra’s agents closing in and he runs to the extraction point.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Something wasn’t right. 

It was a feeling he wasn’t used to, something he couldn’t remember feeling in relation to anything other than a mission.   
But he could feel it deep in his bones. 

Was there really a time he was more than a weapon? A time he felt anything other than his usual numbness? A time dedicated to tender touches, whispered words, and soft kisses. A feeling of something that can only be described as safe. As home.

By the time Pierce arrived the wrongness had seeped into every fiber of his being. 

The slap hardly registered in his mind, too consumed with his churning thoughts. 

“The man on the bridge,” He could feel the confused stares of the men surrounding him but continued. “Who was he?”

Pierce sighed, “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.” 

He could taste the lie in the man’s words. “I knew him” he responds. 

Pierces eyes widened, only a fraction but noticeable to The Asset. 

“I knew him.” He repeats, words steady and sure this time.

He doesn’t mention the memories that keep flashing before him, of doing more than just knowing that man. Of loving him, fighting for and with him. 

He ached for that feeling again. Even as utterly confused as he was, he knew without a doubt that being in those arms and with that man was where he belonged. 

“-wipe him clean.” Pierce finished, motioning to the guards to take care of him. 

The Asset felt a spark of panic, he knew he couldn’t let them grab him and wipe him. He needed to find the man from the images in his head. 

Before they could reach him he stood up and yanked Pierce around in one fluid movement, wrapping his metal arm around the other man’s neck and squeezing just tight enough to make breathing difficult. He backed into a corner, holding the man against him and staring down the guns now pointed at him. 

“You’re all going to put down your guns. You-” He barked pointing to a random guard, “Are going to kick your gun over to me, and you’re going to let me walk out of here if you want him to still be alive.” He commanded, tightening his grip on Pierce to prove his point, cutting off even more oxygen flow. 

With Pierce unable to give commands the guards looked to each other before slowly lowering their guns and placing them on the floor. A gun was kicked over to him, which he carefully picked up in his human hand, making sure he didn’t loose his grip on the man in front of him. He slowly edged against the wall towards the exit. 

Through the bars of the door he could see his clothing. The weapons still attached sitting on a table against the hall where they had been set half and hour before when he had been taken here to get his arm fixed.

“Open the door.” He instructed to the guards standing outside the room. Once again they looked to each other for reassurance before completing his task. 

He calculated how long he’d have after releasing Pierce until he started getting shot at. Six seconds tops. He loosened his arm, the man dropping to the ground heaving and clutching his throat with shaking hands. 

He darted out of the room and grabbed his clothing before rounding the corner to where there was an air ventilation shaft. He pulled off the door and dropped the metal to the ground before rushing down the corridor and around a corner. 

In the safety of the shadows he watched as the guards swarmed the small opening. He almost felt offended at how deeply they seemed to underestimate his ability to escape. Like if they hadn’t expected him to catalogue every possible exit in the building. 

As the men continued to surround the vent and bark orders into headpieces about the security measures for this kind of event, he slipped down the corridor behind them. Using his metal arm he ripped open what appeared to simply be one of the many locked rooms lining the halls. Hidden behind some equipment inside the room was a door that led to series of underground tunnels previously used to transport weapons and personnel. 

Once in the tunnels he quickened his pace to create as much distance between Hydra and himself as possible.

_“I can get by on my own.”_

_“Yeah but the thing is, you don’t have to.”_  
\--  
Soft smiles and sleep warm bodies pressed against each other, early morning light filtering through the cheap curtains. Sparkling blue eyes and lush red lips, flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. Fingers tangle in short dark hair while foreheads press against each other, just breathing the same air. 

_“I love you Buck.”_

_“I love you too Steve. Always.”_  
\--  
“There must be a rope or something!” 

_“Just go, get out of here!”_

_“No not without you!”_

He stumbled and slumped against the damp concrete wall as memories assaulted him. Sliding down the wall tears stung his eyes and his breath came out short and fast. 

His fists were clenched and he could feel the sharp sting of his nails cutting into the flesh of his palm. He let out a sob before quickly slapping a hand to his mouth and letting out a shuddering breath. This was not the place to break down. He needed to keep moving. Weakly he pushed himself into a standing position, picking up the clothing he had dropped and tugging it on. 

Tucking the gun into one of his thigh holsters he stumbled forward until he reached the end of the tunnel. He arrived in a forest that appeared to be a few miles from the city, and judging by the amount of light, it was early evening. 

He knew he’d have to go to SHEILD Headquarters in the morning to find Steve and to deal with Pierce once and for all. Hopefully the death of that man could serve as the end to that chapter in his life, and let him move on. But part of him was terrified to see Steve. Half of him was convinced that Steve would turn his back on him. See him as the murdered that he was and leave him behind. Steve had always deserved better after all.

But the other half was sure Steve would understand, the man’s face had looked so hopeful and heartbroken when he looked at him. Surely he’d want him back. But if that was the case he wasn’t sure he could deal with the acceptance and love he’d be welcomed with. How could he deserve to be taken in with open arms when he had forgotten Steve for 70 years? When he had tried to kill him multiple times.

_Steve sat curled on their ripped up easy chair sketching while Bucky tried to get their second hand record player to work. The styling’s of Glenn Miller drifting through the air, as he dragged Steve from the chair and swept him into a dance. The two laughing as Steve faltered and stepped on his feet._

_“I don’t get how someone as tiny as you can still bruise my toes so bad Stevie.” Bucky said teasingly._

_A swat to the chest, “Oh can it Buck, I’m getting better at it.”_

_Bucky smiled, “Yeah you are. Maybe one day we can do this in a dance hall. Can you imagine that Steve? Dancing like this in front of people, making ‘em jealous that I caught a great guy like you.”_

_Steve smiled sadly and laid his head against the taller man’s chest, “I wish Buck. I wish so bad. Make all the dames jealous that I bagged Bucky Barnes.”_

_“One day.” He whispered dropping a kiss to the blond head of hair tucked under his chin._

His metal fist connected with the bark of a tree, splintering the trunk, as he screamed in anger. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, still screaming, channeling all his pain, rage, and sadness into his voice. Both metal and flesh fingers gripped his hair tightly, painfully, as tears slipped down his cheeks, sobs falling from his lips. 

He rolled from his knees to his side, curling into the fetal position as he cried, his human hand moving to clutch his chest, above his heart. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to sooth his pain or claw it out. 

He’d betrayed his country, his friends, and his beliefs. But worst of all he’d betrayed Steve. He knew that he’d had no choice in the matter, that he had been tortured and brainwashed for decades. But he still couldn’t help berating himself; repeating five words in his head, “you should have fought harder”. His hands were still the ones that had pulled the trigger, handled the knives, and planted the explosives. There was blood on his hands that could never be scrubbed off.

There was no way of knowing how long he lay on the floor of the forest, sobbing and screaming. Mourning the years he had lost, the lives he had taken, the pain and trauma he had endured. The pain he had caused Steve. 

By the time the sun had fully set and the stars had come out his voice was raw and cheeks were red with tears. 

Sleep was too dangerous, and even if he had wanted to sleep he was incapable of it at the moment. His mind was constantly working, remembering new things and putting memories back into their proper order.

“Bucky. I’m Bucky.” He whispered, his voice rough from screaming. Something in his chest slid into place.

\----------  
 _Steve was sick again, lying in bed coughing and shaking.  
Bucky hurried into the kitchen to get him some water and when he returned to the bedroom the smaller man was doubled over in pain, clutching his chest. _

_“Steve!” He cried setting down the water and rushing over to the mattress. He got in bed behind the other man, gently pulling him into a sitting position. Steve’s back to his front, placing a hand on the heaving chest, slowly rubbing circles into it, trying to get the smaller man to breathe in time with him. “Come on Stevie, breathe with me. In and out, deep breaths. That’s it.” He coached._

_“Can I have some of that water Buck?” Steve wheezed once he had a better control of his lungs._

_“Sure, just keep breathing okay?” He answered, carefully leaning over to grab the glass of water from the rickety table beside their bed. He helped the smaller man grasp it and slowly tip it back._

_“You don’t have to be here you know. I know this is no fun, you should go out and do something, I don’t blame you if you’re unhappy here.” Steve said quietly once he had finished the water and was breathing regularly._

_“Hey.” Bucky said, gently tilting Steve’s face up so they could make eye contact, “Don’t you ever think I don’t want to be here. I’m with you till the end of the line, pal.” He said firmly, placing a kiss on the sweaty blond hair that covered Steve’s forehead._  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time he got to SHEILD the next morning the fighting had already begun.

Entering the Triskelion he had to stop for a moment. The realization hitting him that this was the closest he had been to Steve since the day he fell off the train in 1945. This would be the first time he’d seen his best friend since coming back into his right mind. He took a shaking breath before moving on; it wouldn’t do any good to dwell on the past at a time like this.

He made his way to the top floor of the building where he assumed Pierce would be. It was surprisingly easy to get through the halls; most of the Hydra members seemed to be unaware of his changed alliances and sent no one after him. 

When he arrived Pierce had a phone pointed at Natasha. 

His memories of the time during his enslavement were still a bit hazy but he remembered the young woman. Remembered when she was just a teenager, brought to Department X where he was instructed to train her. He protected her until she was strong enough to fend for herself. She was the only good that ever came from his years of hell. He felt anger course through him at the thought of her in danger again, and pulled out one of his guns as he entered the room, raised at Pierce.

When Natasha and the supposedly dead director of SHEILD saw him they both stopped, unsure when they noticed who he was pointing his gun at. Pierce turned around when the two stilled, his eyes widening. The weapon he once controlled pinning its sights on him. 

“Drop your weapon.” He hissed.

“Now let’s just relax.” Pierce said, dropping his phone and lifting his hands in surrender. 

“I don’t take your orders anymore.” Bucky snarled, hand tightening its grip on his gun.

Pierce held his gaze steady but his slightly shaking hands betrayed his fear, “You’re just confused. If you put down your gun we can get this all sorted out.”

“Don’t patronize me!” Bucky roared, stalking closer and pressing the gun to the man’s chest, “Did you know I had a name? A life?” He asked, eyes wild with anger. 

Pierce stared at him, eyes darting between the two other people in the room before sighing. “And you really think that life wants you back?”

“What?” Bucky asked in surprise, pulling back slightly. 

Pierce shrugged lightly before staring him down, “You think the great Captain America wants you back? You think he’ll accept you after everything you’ve done? After all the people you’ve murdered?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows drew up in concern while his breath quickened. 

Pierce smiled cruelly, “He’s the only thing left of your previous life and even he doesn’t want anything to do with you.” 

“Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Bucky yelled, scrubbing a hand down his face to collect himself. “You don’t get to be inside me head anymore.” He growled, bruising the older man’s chest with the force he was using to press the barrel of the gun to the skin. 

“Did you think of me as a human every time you wiped my brain and forced me to kill new people? Every time you tortured me?” He spit out, “Did you ever worry about the day I’d remember and come after you. Or did you think that was impossible?”

He noticed Natasha and Fury’s eyes widen. He himself was surprised, the reality of the number of times his brain had been wiped and manipulated would make anyone think regaining his memory and identity was impossible. 

“I remember. Every test Hydra and Department X did on me, every order, every punishment, every bit of pain.” He continued, his voice shaking slightly in fury. “I remember.” He yelled, voice finally breaking in anger. 

“You took it all away. Everything. Everything I cared about, everything I was. You destroyed me! You brainwashed me for 70 years!” Bucky’s face was twisted in grief and anger, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

He moved the gun to Pierce’s sweating forehead. You took away Steve, was left unsaid. 

“And as my first act of full autonomy I’m going to enjoy killing you.” He said, lips twisting into a snarl. “I don’t want to hurt either of you,” He clarified, turning his head slightly to look at the other two people in the room, “So don’t interfere.”

One loud shot rang out and Pierce’s body fell to the floor. Bucky took a deep shaking breath before letting the gun slip through his fingers as his knees dropped to the floor. It felt like his strings had been cut, Pierce was dead and he was free. 

He felt lost. 

Fury and Natasha looked at the man in front of them, blue eyes staring at the floor as he swayed lightly on his knees. 

Natasha had always prided herself on being a good judge of character. When the Winter Soldier had trained her there was been a compassion and softness that lurked beneath the surface at times. And now, staring at the broken man kneeling in front of her, she could see it again. This was not the same man that had shot her twice. This was the man Steve knew, not all of him. There were very obvious pieces missing, and new pieces that had been added without permission. But he was Steve’s Bucky nonetheless. 

Fury looked at Natasha and jerked his head towards the helicopter. “Our boys might need a ride.”

Natasha nodded once and bent down to pick up the gun she had dropped on the floor. She walked over to Bucky and leaned down, speaking quietly, “Rendezvous on the runway. You should find Steve there.”

Blue eyes focused and looked at her in surprise. “Thank you.” He whispered.

She answered with a slight quirk of her lips. 

“I never would have hurt you if I knew who you were.” He said quietly, “I helped you because my programing was breaking down, once they reapplied it I- I had no control I never wanted to do it. Natalia I only wanted to protect you.”

_“Did you help her? Did you help her escape?” Lukin asked, gripping his hair._

_He refused to answer but help the man’s gaze in defiance, staring up at him from his place on his knees in front of the General, hands shackled behind his back._

_“It’s the programing sir. It’s been so long since his last session that he’s breaking through.” A voice spoke up; he vaguely recognized the voice as belonging to a scientist who had worked on his arm before_

_“Then fix him. I don’t want him to even know who she is. Got it?” Lukin commanded, letting go of his hair, causing him to fall forward onto the concrete floor._

“Let’s just say we’re even now. Thank you for your kindness then. You’re the reason I’m here.” Natasha said offering a hand and helping the man up. She nodded once before turning and following Fury.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Between the falling debris, the few remaining Hydra agents fighting back, and medic teams looking for those who needed assistance, the SHEILD runway was chaos. 

He focused on taking down the remaining agents while he waited for Steve. The sound of a vibranium shield cutting through the air to his right alerted him to Captain America’s presence. He spun around and saw Steve, standing a few feet away, intently fighting four Hydra agents. He looked beautiful, exactly like the Steve that he’d seen right before he fell off the train. Bucky’s chest tightened when he noticed the blond was wearing his old uniform. 

Two more agents approached Steve from the back, guns pointed at his head. Bucky instinctively drew his gun and fired two shots, each hitting the men in their forehead, before moving forward to shoot the other four agents. At the sound of a gun Steve’s head jerked to the side, eyes widening almost comically. With the blond’s head turned he was open to attack, Bucky quickly fired off four more shots, killing the other agents. 

“You never were good at protecting your six.” He said. 

Steve’s face crumbled and he dropped his shield, “Bucky?” He whispered.

Bucky’s heart broke from the pain in Steve’s voice, “Hey punk.” He said, trying to smile, but feeling his eyes fill with tears.

Steve let out a strangled sob before crossing the distance between the two of them in a few short strides. He reached to touch him before jerking his hand away, “Can I? I mean- is that ok?” He asked hesitantly.

The reminder of what his hands had done last time they touched Steve made bile rise in his throat. He choked out a sob and nodded.

Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him flush against a solid chest. For the first time in 70 years he could feel something bloom in his chest, something other than pain, something like hope and love. He clung to Steve, fingers digging into his shoulders and burrowing his face into the taller man’s neck, trying to make himself believe this was actually happening. 

“Steve.” He whispered, “Steve I’m so sorry.” 

Sorry I fell, sorry I left you. Sorry I never gave you the life you wanted. Sorry I wasn't there to help you when you were on that Hydra plane. Sorry I failed, didn’t fight hard enough and became a weapon. Sorry I tried to kill you, sorry I hurt you. Sorry you’ve lived two years without me. Sorry I was the one that caused that pain in your eyes. 

“Sorry? Bucky what are you talking about?” Steve asked.

“Steve I forgot you. I hurt you. I’m sorry for everything.” Bucky whispered, voice breaking as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I tried to _kill_ you Steve.” He choked out; unable to vocalize all the things he wanted to say, all the apologies that bubbling inside him.

“It wasn’t you Buck. I don’t blame you. There was nothing behind those eyes, that’s why it hurt. Because it looked like you and sounded like you but it wasn’t you. He wasn’t my best guy. You remember now, you’re Bucky now. You have nothing to apologize for.” He insisted, voice heavy with emotions as he pulled Bucky tighter against him. 

He could feel the eyes of Natasha, Fury, and the two other people that had helped Steve. He wanted to run and hide. Couldn’t take them watching him, seeing him so weak. But the pain of knowing that they had seen what he was hurt the worst. They had seen him as a monster. He fought the urge to run and burrowed himself deeper into Steve’s embrace. Inhaling the other man’s scent and just letting himself be surrounded in the goodness that was Steve Rogers.   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**8 Months Later:**

Steve woke up to Bucky screaming and thrashing. He quickly sat up and took in the man lying next to him. There was a fine sheen of sweat over the brunet’s skin and his eyes were shut tight, hands were balled into fists and clutching at the sheets as he shook. 

“Bucky. Buck. Hey, I’m here, you’re safe.” He murmured, repeating the words until Bucky started to wake up.

He opened his eyes with a gasp, chest heaving and eyes darting around the room looking for a threat. 

“Hey you’re safe, you’re okay.” He soothed, placing a hand lightly on the other man’s flesh shoulder. 

Bucky’s eyes were still wide and panicked, but he shifted closer, so Steve gathered the other man close and held him tightly. Rocking back and forth slightly and pressing gentle kisses to the soft brown hair. 

“I killed you.” He said, voice breaking, “You died and it was because of me. There was a trigger, or a switch and- and I killed you.” Bucky said in anguish. 

“Hey, it was dream. You’re safe, I promise. I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go.” He whispered rubbing Bucky’s back and gently repositioning them so they could lie down. The other man curled closer and hid his face in Steve’s neck, like he always did when he needed to know it was real. “I’m with you till the end of the line.” He promised pulling the covers around them.

Bucky’s grip tightened, “Always.” He whispered.   
\--

The next time Steve woke up it was to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking. He slowly righted himself and got out of bed, lazily padding into the kitchen. Bucky was at the stove, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, humming softly as he cooked the food. He turned when he heard the blond’s footsteps and smiled. Steve was sure he’d never get tired of that smile or the way it made his chest feel warm and his stomach twist. Bucky was gorgeous. “You’re gorgeous.” He said, just staring at the man. The slope of his shoulders, the curve of his spine, the way his hair fell around his face, down to the way his toes stuck out from under the hem of his sweats. 

Bucky flushed lightly and turned around to finish cooking, “You’re getting sentimental in your old age pal.” He mocked, spooning eggs and bacon onto a large plate. 

Steve smiled and walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, resting his chin on his left shoulder. He could feel the thick scaring where the metal connected to flesh and peppered soft kisses over the skin. Bucky shivered slightly before leaning into the embrace, sighing happily. 

“Thanks for last night. For putting up with me and my problems.” He said, turning his face to look at Steve. 

The blond made a soft “mhmm” before placing a kiss on Bucky’s lips. “You’re there when I have my nightmares. It’s what husbands do right?” He asked rhetorically, intertwining their hands, the metal of their rings clinking together. 

“Yeah.” Bucky whispered, leaning in for another kiss. 

They were interrupted when the door opened and Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Sharon walked in, each holding a dish. 

“Ugh my appetite will be ruined if you two don’t cut out the cute bullshit.” Clint complained walking into the kitchen and placing his pan of cinnamon rolls on the table. 

Sharon smiled at the two and placed a kiss on each of the men’s cheeks, “I think it’s sweet. Besides newly weds are supposed to be like this.” She said, placing her dish on the large wooden table and unwrapping her hash browns. 

“They got married six months ago.” Clint whined, digging around the cabinets for plates and cups. 

“Yeah, that qualifies as newly married.” Bucky said rolling his eyes and bringing the eggs and bacon to the table. 

“You guys gonna put shirts on?” Sam asked eyebrows raised.

Bucky shrugged but Steve nodded and grabbed two shirts from the bedroom, throwing one at his husband before yanking his own over his head. 

After pulling on the shirt Bucky helped Natasha grab the silverware and juice. She smiled and pulled Bucky into a hug. After a few weeks of getting used to each other again and learning who the other really was, they had hit it off and developed a sibling-like relationship. 

“You and Clint still doing well?” Bucky asked, sitting down and throwing an arm over the back of Steve’s chair. “Because the offer for disembowelment still stands.” He said, smirking at the archer. 

Natasha smirked and said something in Russian causing Bucky to choke on his breath before laughing.

Clint rolled his eyes, “Oh come on Barnes, I’ve learned you’re all talk. You don’t scare me, you’ve become soft since marrying Cap.” He said reaching over and stealing a piece of bacon from the sniper’s plate.

Bucky glared, “You wanna test that theory?” He asked menacingly, stealing the entire plate of pancakes from the other man. 

Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s arm and raised his eyebrows, “Fine.” Bucky sighed and only took half the pancakes. Steve smiled and rewarded him with a kiss, the brunet making a happy noise in the back of his throat. 

Clint shook his head, “The famed Winter Soldier: stealer of pancakes.” He mocked.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he pulled away from Steve, “I could still kill you with a spoon Barton. Watch it.” He said, brandishing the spoon he had been previously using to stir his coffee.

“Remember no talk of disembowelment or murder at the table.” Sam reminded the two, “Let’s eat!” He announced, picking up his fork. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile as he looked around the table, taking in his new friends and new husband. After everything they’d been through it was hard to believe they could be this happy. If anyone had asked Steve just eight months before, if he thought he’d be hosting brunch with his friends, he would have scoffed. If anyone had asked if he’d be hosting that brunch in his Brooklyn apartment with his husband James Buchanan Barnes he’s probably be tempted to punch them. But here he was, in his home with his friends hosting their weekly brunch and looking forward to later in the day when they’d all go to Stark Tower for movie night and team bonding.

Bucky noticed his look and moved his chair closer, their knees brushing softly against each other. 

“Are you happy?” Steve whispered to the brunet. 

Bucky turned to face him and raised his eyebrows, “Of course. I’ve never been happier.” He reassured the man, smiling softly, “You?”

Steve gazed fondly at the man in front of him and nodded, “Yeah, I’m with you aren’t I?” He asked, enjoying the way Bucky's smile widened. The two leaned in to kiss but were interrupted when Clint threw a piece of bacon at them.

“Hey no PDAs they make people uncomfortable.” He scolded. 

The two men looked at each other and smiled widely before digging into their food, hands clasped beneath the table. Bucky’s thumb rubbing against the blond’s wedding ring, thinking of the inscription on the inside, _till the end of the line._

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr (spookyookykitty.tumblr.com) and please let me know what you thought about it!


End file.
